


When The Next Year Comes Along

by GotTheSilver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Times, Bottom Castiel, Kissing, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times Dean and Cas kissed on New Year's Eve and one time they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Next Year Comes Along

**one.**

“Fuckin’ typical,” Dean says under his breath, leaning against the shovel, grave not even halfway uncovered.

“What’s ‘typical’?” comes a voice beside him and, of course, Cas’ sudden appearances is exactly what Dean needs tonight.

“Noise, Cas, seriously. Since you’re here, wanna help out with this?” Dean gestures to the grave. Cas rolls his eyes at him before waving a hand, revealing the casket Dean had been uncovering. “That’s what I’m talking about,” Dean says, grinning at Cas before throwing salt over the bones. Digging out a set of matches, Dean sparks them and throws it into the grave.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Cas says, and when Dean looks over at Cas he’s distracted by the light from the flames playing across Cas’ face. “Dean.”

“What? Oh. New Year’s Eve and I’m alone in a cemetery burning bones, that’s what’s typical.”

“Is there somewhere you would rather be?” Cas asks, his brow furrowing.

Dean stares at Cas a beat longer before shaking his head. “I don’t know, Cas. Maybe this isn’t so bad. Hell, I got you for company, right?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Fireworks start going off in the background and Dean pulls his phone out, glancing at the time. “Happy New Year, Cas. Not that it means much when you’ve been alive as long as you, right?”

Cas tilts his head back, looking at the fireworks. “I find the rituals humans have for the dawning of a new year fascinating.”

“Rituals? Mostly people get drunk and make out with people they shouldn’t.”

“Your generation didn’t invent that.”

Laughing, Dean steps a little closer to Cas, the heat from the fire keeping him warm. The fireworks aren’t the most dramatic Dean’s ever seen, but he figures he could probably do with less drama in his life. Dean can feel the warmth from Cas’ body, and he finds himself leaning into it until their sides are almost pressed up against each other.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Dean brushes the backs of their hands together, the fireworks creating a colourful glow when he glances at Cas. The blue that falls over Cas’ skin isn’t as blue as Cas’ eyes but Dean finds it captivating. Before he can re-think it, Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ cheek. It’s only a second, maybe two, but even so he savours the hitch in Cas’ breath and the stubble beneath his lips.

“What was that?” Cas asks after a moment.

“Ritual,” Dean says, feeling a heat on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the fire in the grave. “Happy New Year.”

Cas nods solemnly, his fingers grasping Dean’s and holding tight. A small smile plays on his lips. “Happy New Year, Dean.”

**two.**

The bar is obnoxiously loud, and Dean’s sure that years ago he never would’ve noticed it—would’ve welcomed it—but now he’s sitting at a corner table glaring at people who look like they’re going to spill their drinks on him.

Sam’s at the bar, flirting with everyone he meets, and that’s the only reason Dean agreed to come out tonight. It’s been a rough year, for all of them, and when Sam had suggested actually going somewhere for New Year’s Eve, Dean had acquiesced.

“You’re thinking a lot,” Cas says, a line of empty shot glasses in front of him.

“I’m thinking that Sammy needs to blow off some steam.”

“And you?”

Dean nudges Cas’ shoulder with his own. “I’m good here.” The television above the bar is counting down the minutes until the ball drops, and Dean’s contemplating getting another drink.

“Are you happy?” Cas asks suddenly.

And now Dean really needs that drink. “I—that’s a loaded question, Cas.” Dean fights the urge to look away, meeting Cas’ gaze head on. “You make me happy,” he says, voice unwavering but barely above a whisper. From the pleased look on Cas’ face, he heard exactly what Dean said.

“You make me happy too, Dean. I—want to stay.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out, all thoughts of getting a drink banished from his mind. “You don’t have to ask permission to stay. Not ever.”

Cas stares at him like what Dean’s saying is taking some time to compute, and Dean waits patiently, the noise from the bar sinking into the background. “I can stay,” Cas says, almost to himself, a smile on his face.

“Always, Cas. Always.”

Dean’s almost rocked off his seat by the force with which Cas throws himself at Dean, their mouths meeting messily. Cas tastes of Jagermeister, kissing Dean like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do and Dean—he doesn’t want to think about how it could be the last thing they ever do. Not now. Not when he can thread his fingers through Cas’ hair and curl his arm around Cas’ waist, trying to bring him as close as possible without pushing the table over.

There’s cheering in the background, and when Dean reluctantly pulls away, he realises that the clock’s hit midnight. “Hell of a way to enter a new year, Cas,” he says, kissing the corner of Cas’ mouth.

“A new tradition,” Cas says as he glances around the bar. “Maybe next time at home.”

Dean could get used to that word coming out of Cas’ mouth.

**three.**

A vampire hunt is goddamn disgusting. Blood _everywhere_ and, goddamnit, Dean should’ve known better than to wear these jeans.

“You good?” Sam asks, holding out his hand and hauling Dean to his feet.

“I’ve got bloodsucker blood all over me, how do you think I’m doing, Sammy?” Dean looks down at himself and wrinkles his nose. “Where’s Cas?”

“Talking to Claire,” Sam says, gesturing with his head. “I’m gonna call Jody, let her know that the girls are okay.” Wiping his machete down, Sam looks around. “Happy New Year, dude.”

“Yeah,” Dean says with a sigh. “Happy New Year.”

Sam claps him on the shoulder and walks off towards Krissy. Dean laughs when she punches Sam in the arm, a jar of dead man’s blood by her feet. He really doesn’t want to know where she got that. He goes to wipe a hand down his face before realising all that would do is smear blood all down his skin. “Fuck,” he mutters, looking over at Cas and Claire. Claire’s different now, more confident in herself, and that’s more than Dean ever thought she’d be. She laughs at something Cas says before giving him a quick hug and heading off to her car.

“I thought we were going to spend this new year at home,” Dean says when he reaches Cas.

“There’s always next year,” Cas responds, looking Dean up and down. “You’re a mess.”

“Does this mean I don’t get a kiss?”

Cas’ face softens and he waves a hand. There’s a tingling feeling across Dean’s face, and he doesn’t need to touch his skin to know it’s been cleaned off. Raising an eyebrow at Cas, Dean smiles when Cas leans in and meets Dean’s mouth in a chaste kiss.

“Happy New Year, Dean.”

**four.**

“Dean, I— _oh_.”

Cas is on top of him, knees against Dean’s hips, riding him for all he’s worth and Dean—

This is _definitely_ a better way to start the new year than all of Dean’s previous new years put together. Dean has no idea of the actual time; his world has been narrowed to nothing but Cas above him, skin flushed with exertion as they make the most of the empty bunker. Sam’s gone to visit Jody, and thank fuck for that because with Cas so fucking tight around his dick, there’s no way Dean’s gonna be quiet.

Reaching up, Dean tugs Cas down until their mouths meet; it’s softer than Dean would think himself possible of when he’s this worked up, but it’s Cas, and all Dean ever wants with Cas is to keep him close. To make him realise just how much Dean loves him.

“C’mon baby,” Dean says, not letting go of Cas, nudging their noses together. “Let’s greet the new year with a bang.”

“That—that was awful, Dean.”

Grinning, Dean puts his heels against the bed for leverage and pushes up into Cas a little more. “Oh yeah? You don’t want to come?”

“Dean,” Cas whines, his head dropping against Dean’s shoulder. “I will smite you.”

“No you won’t,” Dean says, smiling as he trails his fingers down the length of Cas’ spine before starting to move, a groan falling from Cas’ lips with each thrust.

Sex isn’t new for Dean by a long shot, but every moment with Cas like this makes him feel like he’s discovering his boner for the first time. He wants to remember every sound Cas makes, every touch, because it’s... this is _it_ for Dean, and he knows it.

Cas moves his head, finding Dean’s mouth and they kiss over and over again until Cas groans against Dean’s mouth, his release spilling between their bodies. His teeth scrape against Dean’s bottom lip and that’s it, Dean’s coming, his body blanketed by Cas, and it’s—

It’s everything.

Breathing heavily, Dean strokes his palms up and down Cas’ back, straightening his legs out. Loathe to break the connection between them, he doesn’t move, kissing Cas’ face and smiling to himself when Cas sighs.

“Happy New Year, Cas.”

**five.**

Dean doesn’t remember much. He remembers going after the rugaru, and remembers being thrown into a wall and then it’s kind of fuzzy.

Goddamn typical New Year’s Eve shit.

“You’re awake,” Cas says quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean responds, blinking up at the dingy motel ceiling. “Everyone good?”

“Everyone’s fine.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ hand and looks at him. “Good. That’s—good. You healed me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Cas shifts on the bed, snuggling against Dean’s side. “Sam’s gone to get us some dinner.”

“I don’t know if I can eat,” Dean says, curling towards Cas. “Still feel sick.”

“You need to eat, Dean,” Cas says, his face serious like he’s reprimanding a child and Dean’s hit with a flash about what it would be like to raise a kid with Cas. If they could ever settle down enough to do something as normal as that. It’s not like it used to be; hunts are fewer on the ground for them than in previous years, but they still end up with nights like this a lot of the time.

“What time is it?”

“Coming up to midnight.”

Dean hums, moving until he’s splayed out on Cas’ chest, head resting underneath Cas’ chin. “Next year, we’re not hunting on New Year’s Eve.”

“Okay,” Cas says, bringing Dean’s hand to his mouth and kissing the back. “Whatever you say.”

**\+ one.**

Dean has never been this goddamn nervous in his entire life. Not when he first picked up a gun. Not when he went on his first hunt. Not when he and Cas moved into the house. Not ever.

He grips the ring in his pocket with sweaty hands and watches Cas making his way around the kitchen. Cas sucks at baking, but his homemade pizza is worth it’s weight in gold, and Dean’s mouth is practically watering at the smell of them. Dean’s thrown off balance by Sam grabbing him by the shoulders. “You ready?”

“What? Shut up.” Dean takes his hand out of his pocket and shoves Sam back. “I just—”

“He’s going to say yes,” Sam interrupts. “Go and do it.”

Dean looks around the room; Charlie’s in the corner talking to Claire; Kevin’s wide eyed at whatever Jody and Donna are telling him, and Krissy’s mixing herself a drink that Dean sure as hell hopes she can handle. It’s family. Maybe not family in the way Dean thought of family when he was a kid, but it’s family nonetheless.

“Pizza’s ready,” Cas calls, wiping his hands on his apron before untying it and hanging it up. “Are you okay?” he asks when he reaches Dean, eyes narrowing as he looks at the expression on Dean’s face.

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine,” Dean says, glancing at the clock. Almost midnight. Okay. He can do this. “I, uh. I have—” He fumbles around for a moment before pulling out the ring. “I love you, and I know we’re not—Charlie’ll probably have to fake some things up for us—but however we manage to do it, I just wanna marry you. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you, Dean.”

“That a yes?”

Cas rolls his eyes, a smile on his face. “That’s a yes.”

There’s a cheer from their friends, and Dean laughs when Jody comes over and claps him on the shoulder, Charlie coming over to hug them both. Claire raises her glass at them, and Dean can’t even begin to understand how strange this must be for her, but she’s here and she seems happy.

Krissy walks over and nods at him. “Not bad, old man.”

“Hey. Still not old.”

“Sure. At least now you’ve got someone to be old with.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, looking over at Cas who is being hugged within an inch of his life by Charlie. “I do.”

As the clock hits midnight, Dean slides the ring on Cas’ finger. “Happy New Year, Cas.”

“Happy New Year, Dean.”


End file.
